


A bookstore away

by Lacerta



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Dimension Travel, Genius Tony Stark, M/M, Magical Bookstore, Parallel Universes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta/pseuds/Lacerta
Summary: There's a bookstore on Steve's way home from work. It draws him in like magic.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2020





	A bookstore away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Askafroa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askafroa/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Askafroa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askafroa/pseuds/Askafroa) in the [stony_stocking_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2020) collection. 



> For a short prompt:  
> -Magical bookstore and coffee AU ☕📚🧁
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.)

There's a bookstore on Steve's way home from work. It draws him in like magic.

Bucky never seems to notice the dark red door squeezed between the barber shop and the pharmacy. He’s never been inside, which might be why he doesn’t understand the charm of its quiet and the cosy tables hidden between the book-filled shelves, but he raises brows whenever Steve mentions visiting it again.

_ The days are too short, Steve, _ he says.  _ You shouldn’t waste your time in a bookstore. _ The argument has a fixed course by now. Steve argues that he takes home extra pages to draw for a better pay, and he focuses best with a cup of coffee by the second floor window overlooking the street below.  _ We have coffee at home, Steve, _ says Bucky. Steve understands the underlying meaning of his words– they don’t have the money to spend freely on the coffee shop fares, no matter if the homebrew isn’t very good.

Steve’s learnt to leave it there; he’s always told Bucky everything but this time he doesn’t even know where and how to begin.

Despite Bucky’s frowns and criticising commentary, he’s never been able to escape the inexplicable pull of the bookstore. At first it was the comfort of the place that did it, and the impossible feeling that time passes slower when Steve’s inside. He can swear he sometimes spends long hours hunched over a particularly tricky pose on the comic page – his back hates him for it every time – but when he gets home, it’s barely a couple of hours after his shift at work. Steve doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It saves him a lot of time and earns him enough to pay for his share of the rent. As for the coffee…

Steve met someone on his maybe third visit to the bookstore. He definitely isn’t forgetting their first meeting any time soon.

The stranger stormed across the bookstore with an armful of scrolls and yellowed books. The cut of his slacks and the carelessly rolled-up sleeves of his shirt screamed of money; that made Steve wary at the first glance. Without any warning, the man dumped the books on Steve’s table and rushed away. Confused and too surprised to protest right away, Steve pushed the pile carefully to the other side of the table. As he waited for the man to show up again, Steve prepared a whole righteously angry speech. Yet, when he came back with two more thick volumes, mumbling under his nose about physics, magic and probabilities, Steve froze.

Steve isn’t sure what caught his eye first. Was it the stranger’s handsome face, the spark in his eyes or the way his hands moved excitedly as he continued his muttering? It’s impossible to tell, but when the young man looked up at him, pausing in the middle of a mumbled sentence, and smiled, Steve was already done for.

They didn’t even talk that time, unless you count a polite goodbye Steve gave when he stood up from their table, but he left home with a wad of paper that, instead of being filled with comic characters, was a detailed study of the young stranger. Angry with himself, Steve hoped to never meet the guy again.

Life rarely goes like Steve plans it, and so it didn’t that time either. Thank God.

Steve climbs the stairs to the bookstore with a wide smile. It’s a Saturday. He has a day off tomorrow, and he’s got  _ plans _ for it.

He heads straight to their table, and when he gets there, Tony is waiting for him with coffee, having paid for them both as he always does. He’s looking as impatient as Steve feels.

“Morning, sunshine!” Tony calls out with a grin.

Tony has theories: about how the bookstore is a point where parallel universes collide, how time is relative and warped around this singularity, and how it’s possible for the matter from different planes to exist in a stable form at the same time if the conditions are just right. They’re all too complicated for Steve to deeply understand, even if he’s learned more about physics since he met Tony than he ever thought there was to learn. But Tony explains his theories with such confidence that Steve can’t find it in himself to doubt any of them.

“It hasn’t been a morning for a few hours now, dear,” he counters. Steve’s exasperation is undeniably fond.

Tony hums. “Then how come we’ve got a whole day ahead of us?”

Steve smiles even wider.

They’re testing one of Tony’s other theories today, the one about the bookstore being not just a  _ hub _ for all the colliding universes, but a  _ gateway. _ If his math is right – and when Tony claims it is, Steve believes the genius easily – they might be able to visit each other’s dimensions. They might be able to spend more time together than the few hours before the bookstore closes down for the night.

Preferably in a more private setting, Steve thinks as he pulls Tony up from the chair and into a kiss.

“Your place or mine?” he asks cheekily. He’d never have thought he could say it out loud without blushing and apologising right after. Somehow it doesn’t feel so bad; not when Tony purrs with delight in response.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He pecks Steve on the lips and interlocks their fingers. “Come on, I have a chef on stand-by. He makes the  _ best _ fondue and I’m not letting you go home until you try it.”

There’s a high chance it’s not a joke but Steve laughs anyway as he lets himself be dragged towards the exit.

When the door opens, Steve’s breath is shaky with awe and disbelief. The world around him looks impossible, almost unreal, but the hand in his is just as warm as ever, and he’s ready to follow Tony’s smile anywhere.


End file.
